


living in the sprawl

by cherryvanilla



Category: Toy Story Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Teenagers, Vignette, sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Sometimes I wonder if the world's so small</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	living in the sprawl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxxcub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxxcub/gifts).



> Written for foxxcub's prompt to me: Sid/Andy, 500 words, sunset.

There’s a place in town called The Cove where your dad used to take you. You love to ride your bike there alone, sunshine beating down on you as you peddle the incline like you’re Donnie Darko. The Cove lies on private property but you’ve been doing this alone since you were ten and haven’t been caught yet.

Nearby stands a pink mansion, gated and elusive. Your dad left when you were nine; you were convinced that’s where he went – that he was living there, closed off and trapped, and you needed to rescue him. Each time you rode your bike you’d stop at the gate and will someone to exit. No one ever did.

The Cove overlooks water that seems clearer and dons sand that seems whiter. The incline is steep and there isn’t a long stretch of ground to sit. You arrive to someone in your spot. The kid has dark hair and a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

“This is my spot,” you say, petulant.

He turns slowly, unfazed, and raises his eyebrows. “This is their spot, dude,” pointing back to the mansion.

His hair is a little long and his eyes are sharp, containing an all too familiar gleam.

The kid looks you up and down, grinning. “I know you. You were my neighbor.”

You blink and realize it’s true. Sid Philips was sitting before you. Even though you didn’t move far, you were still shuffled into a different school district.

You drop down beside him and feel him shift.

“How’s life on the other side of the tracks?”

You shrug. “Same old. Never seen you here before.”

“Usually come earlier.”

You sit, barely talking as you watch the sunset; a blue-purple swirl in the distance.

After, you ride your bikes down the hill, pausing at the bottom. A casual nod of the head in departure before you go one way, Sid the other.

It becomes a thing, which you can’t help but find deliberate on his part. You talk of school and compare teachers, of music and the acts who are coming around.

At the start of summer you arrive; giddy with anticipation of the season before you and, more importantly, days like this with Sid. He looks nervous, fidgeting with a cigarette.

“I uh, have an extra ticket to Arcade Fire at the Amphitheater. Wanna go?”

You do: tailgating in the parking lot, then walking over to the beach, listening to the opening act while watching the sunset; looks different from this side of town.

A brush of fingers over knuckles startles you out of your thoughts.

You turn to him, inquisitive. He’s still looking straight ahead but his hand closes over yours, squeezing gently. “It wasn’t an extra ticket.”

You turn your palm over, lacing your fingers together. “I know.”

When your eyes meet, his are as bright as the sun. He kisses you on the beach, a slow, perfect slide of lips. Win sings, “Children, wake up.”

You feel like you have.


End file.
